


Three's Company (Or Is It?)

by StonyAvengerGirl16 (CharmedBritannia)



Series: StarkSpangledWinter [17]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Courtship, Fluff, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Possessive Steve, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, wtf is this even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharmedBritannia/pseuds/StonyAvengerGirl16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is not popular.</p><p>He was eccentric and a nerd and he liked it that way. He could invent and cause explosions and rock out to ACDC in peace. He had two awesome best friends for whenever he got lonely, anyway. But all of the aforementioned peace gets shot to hell when two of, if not <em>the</em> most popular guys in school start...<em>fighting for his attention?</em></p><p>Maybe they can reach a compromise...</p><p>Cue madness, Tony thinking it's all a joke, Bucky and Steve being ridiculous, everyone else being done with their shit, and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Declare War

**Author's Note:**

> AU TIME! I/m kind of deviating a bit, but I got this idea, and none of my other ideas would appear until I wrote down this one. And I have plans for it. *Rubs hands together with maniacal laughter* So, as always, leave a request or a prompt below in the comments. I have like, three that I'm working on, so if you're prompt hasn't been answered, it's probably one of those. LOL I'm so disorganized in my mind and surroundings. But, as per usual,
> 
> Enjoy!

\------

Anthony Edward Stark was not popular.

 

No, that was an understatement. He was so unpopular he was damn near hated. There we go. That was more like it.

 

_‘But Anthony! You’re rich, intelligent, handsome, and charismatic! How could you be so unpopular?’_

Well, glad you asked! Yes, he was rich. But once it became apparent that he wasn’t going to bend the hell backwards and start throwing cash at people to make them like him (superficial assholes), they called him stingy, spoiled, and self-absorbed. Yes, he was intelligent. But because of said intelligence, he was two years younger than everyone in his junior class. And it often manifested itself in a sort of sarcastic asshole-ry, so people thought he was a dick.

 

He _was_ a bit of a dick when you thought about it.

 

So no, that didn’t help either.

 

He was above average as far as looks went, at least for his age, no acne or anything, but he was short and gangly, and he wore glasses because they were less time consuming than contacts. He’d rather sleep after an inventing binge than swear up and down at stupid, flimsy plastic lenses. He wore them for social events though, because Howard wanted him to look his best.

 

Dick. That’s probably who he inherited it from.

 

And his charisma only worked on stock-brokers and businessmen. High schoolers were superficial; they saw a short, skinny nerd with glasses, and no amount of personality would paint a better picture for them. But they could go straight down to hell. He was a proud nerd, and he would stick his tongue out in a fit of childish smugness as he passed them trudging to pre-calc. He did that shit at _five._

 

So he wasn’t popular at all, to Howard and Maria’s dismay. The billionaire socialites had taken him out of his boarding school and into a public school to earn his diploma, and were shocked when he didn’t immediately grab the school population by the balls and drag it along behind him (they didn’t say that, but he just _knew_ they were thinking it). Instead, he was dragged by the ear by either his two best friends Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts and James Rhodes for skipping class to tinker in the Engineering or Computer Science classes ( _“Pep, you don’t understand; I’m building an A.I, and it’ll be revolutionary, I don’t need art, come on Pep, that shit’s useless to me, why do I need to know how to draw fucking fruit?”)_ , or by the Dean of Students Phil Coulson for blowing up a Chemistry lab again _(“Owowowowowow-Sorry! It’s not my fault this time! My blowtorch was on the lowest setting, anyway! How was I supposed to know that someone hadn’t wiped down the counter of all Sodium Chloride? Why isn’t Bruce in trouble?”)_.

 

But it all went swell and fine, as far as he was concerned. His parents ignored him, and he got unlimited funds to build whatever shit he chose, in peace. He earned funding for the school through competitions? They let him tinker in peace unless it became a safety concern (like the his first time blowing up a Chemistry lab; that shit had gone so far south, but he met his Science Bro Bruce Banner in the process, so he counted it as a plus. What the hell was he even doing there to start with?). He earned a reputation as an eccentric, nerdy freak whom explosions followed daily? Well, most people left him in _peace._

See the trend? Peace. He just wanted to invent in it.

 

Until the day came when his life went to shit by the hands of two incredibly hot young men.

 

Let’s take it from the top, shall we?

 -----

Tony tightened his scarf, and cursed under his breath. He had promised Rhodey that he would watch him try out today, but the chill was starting to get to him. He swore that when he got older, he was going to move to Malibu or something to avoid this shitty weather. He waved to Rhodey, who gave a much less enthusiastic (ugh, rude) wave back. Whatever. The sport of football never appealed to him anyway. He wasn’t interested in watching the thick-as-bricks jocks knock what few brain cells they had left in what was essentially using your body as a battering ram.

 

But Rhodey was trying out for varsity, and so he would sit his ass on this cold bench and watch because he was nice like that. Seriously, they couldn’t invest in some cushions or something? He pulled out his phone, and became immersed in it. Whatever. They were only stretching anyway.

\-----

Steve rolled his shoulder.

 

Try-outs had been brutal this year. It seemed like Coach was trying to break them slowly, running them until they were exhausted both physically and mentally. He smiled. But he couldn’t complain, because as a freshman, he couldn’t have even _dreamed_ of being out there like that. But once he, as Bucky so eloquently put it, _“came back from summer vacation built like a brick shit-house”,_ his social life had taken a turn for the better. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and he emphasized that their interest was solely superficial.

 

Buck had just rolled his eyes and told him he needed to get laid.

 

Steve had punched him in his flesh arm, smirking when Bucky had yelped, and bit out that he wasn’t tiny anymore and _“SHIT, Stevie! Lay off; that actually hurts now, damn it!”_

So when he and Bucky left the locker room, and saw a short young man being enveloped by several larger ones, he immediately stepped forward to assist. But Bucky merely grabbed the back of his shirt, shushing him.

 

“The hell, Buck? We have to help him; he’s going to get pulverized!”

“That’s Stark. Trust me, you don’t have to.”

“But he’s obviously outmatched!”

“That’s hilarious, coming from you.”

“ _Buck-“_

“Well, well, well.”

 

Both heads snapped up, and eyes narrowed at Michaels. He was the stereotypical bully, and Bucky always worked himself into a rage, saying that he was the one who gave football players a bad name.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, fag? Staring at us while we practice? That’s sick.”

“Please. I wouldn’t stare at you if your ass knew how to cure cancer-“

 

Both Bucky and Steve cringed when the inevitable punch connected with Stark’s jaw, knocking the glasses off of his face. He stayed in that position for a second, but slowly rose upwards.

 

“You did hit me, correct?”

“Damn right I did-“

“You understand I can sue you for assault and battery, right?”

“There’s no proof-“

 

Stark laughed, a dry, brittle thing.

 

“Proof? Who the flying fuck needs proof? I have a bruise on my face, and _I_ say that you hit me. I’ll let the rest of the Stark’s family lawyers do the rest. Even if _I_ can’t get any money out of you, I’ll make sure they drag this shit out as long as possible. Lose-lose for you, asshole. You can fight us and lose, and we get everything you own, or you can fight us and win, but still lose a shit-ton of money in legal fees. So touch me again. Any of you. _I dare you.”_

 

All of the bullies seemed to back away almost instantaneously at the unflinching glare he shot them, bruise already blossoming on his cheek. Michaels looked torn between punching him again and fleeing, but Tony held his gaze the longest, slow smirk spreading that just screamed _‘I win, you lose, haha motherfucker~_ ’. His own cheeks warmed without his consent, and Steve couldn’t help but feel the stirrings of a crush develop. Damn it. He couldn’t help it, alright? Strong, sure, brave, quick-witted, and sharp-tongued people were his type. Just ask Sharon or Peggy.

 

And then Tony snapped a foot across Michaels face, and Bucky felt himself warm. As one, the others swarmed on him, and while he wasn’t going to win any competitions any time soon, his form was decent and his strikes were swift. The little asshole didn’t seem to be scared at all, looking more disgruntled than anything. And Natasha would testify that he liked his lovers a little bit dangerous, a little bit bitchy, and more than anything competent and tough. All of his true desires wrapped up into a mussed, adorable yet somehow still sexy package. Check, check, and double-check, requirements met.

 

They both let out matching sighs/groans of pure desire and _‘wow’._

 

And then they turned to the other.

 

See, they had been friends since they were in diapers. They grew up playing together, and got along like a house on fire. They helped each other through their rough patches. Bucky helped Steve out of fights when he was a scrawny runt filled to the brim with justice, and Steve dragged Bucky to class and made sure he didn’t fail. They liked the same things, accepted the others flaws, etc. And normally, their taste in lovers were pretty different, luckily removing conflict in that area (Natasha had been an…odd occurrence, but they didn’t talk about Natasha where she might hear them, which was _everywhere_ ).They never had any true problems, to be honest.

 

But this would be a problem, it seemed.

 

“I saw him first, jerk.”

“I don’t think so, punk. I call dibs.”

“The hell you do! You can’t call dibs on a _person_.”

“I can, and I just did.”

“…No.”

“What?”

“I said _no._ ”

“Steve. Stevie. I called dibs. It is against the Bro Code to deny me that, you are breaking the Bro Code-“

“Well, what does the Bro Code say about when two best friends like the same guy?”

“…Neither gets them but still-“

“Point. You’re breaking the Bro Code. So I’m breaking it too.”

“When did you become such a little shit-“

“I was born a little shit, according to you, and I’m taller than you now-“

“Still a shit-“

“I like him more!”

“No, you don’t!”

“You got Natasha!”

“First of all, no I didn’t, that was weird and pretty deadly and we were both stupid as shit, don’t bring that up, _we don’t talk about that;_ and secondly, that is _so_ not the same and you know it-“

 

Tony continued on, unaware of his arguing audience. He was a billionaire’s son, after all. So that meant training in case of emergencies, such as kidnappings (he’d had six, four of which he’d escaped on his own), hostage situations (highest was for ten million, he was insulted that they thought that was all he was worth), swarming paparazzi (kicking a camera out of someone’s hand felt extremely gratifying), overenthusiastic fans/stalkers (most common, least threatening), the works. He didn’t really like to use it often, because that started a lot of shit that he didn’t want to deal with. But that asshole looked so smug and he was so tall and it was cold and he was tired and he had been on an inventing binge and hadn’t had his coffee in a while so it all added up to him _kicking him in the face._

 

Thank you, gymnastics for that wonderful flexibility.

 

Sure, he was covered in bruises and he’d probably have to have Jarvis check over one of his ribs, but he was satisfied with the outcome. So he dusted his hands, and took notice of the two guys arguing by the doorway.

 

Holy shit they were _gorgeous._

_What even is his life?_

They were both tall, they were both muscular, and they were both Tony’s wet dreams made a reality _._ The blonde one had the whole clean-cut All-American look about him, from the neatly combed hair to the sparkling blue eyes. The brunette was almost the opposite, long hair in a haphazard ponytail and eyes dark with mischief. He felt like fanning himself, when they both looked at him.

 

_Shit._

\-----

_Shit._

His eyes were pretty. And his face was pretty. And everything about him was _perfect._ This merely solidified the fact that neither were going to back down on this one. One of them was going to end up bitter and lonely and jealous, and they both thought the same thing.

 

_“It damn sure’s not going to be me.”_

\------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Steve's Move

\-------

It all started that Friday.

 

Tony had been minding his own business, hammering away at…something (he wasn’t quite sure yet, he was only at around thirty-two hours without sleep, and his best manic ideas popped up at around forty-eight). The clangs echoed down the Science Hall, unnerving most of the students who were convinced that one day Stark was going to accidently (or purposefully from irritation and a lack of proper rest) emerge with a bomb and blow them all to smithereens. But the clangs drew the attention of one particular young blonde man.

 

He was just about to get at it with the blow torch when the door slid open. Raising the mask, he turned around in confusion. Normally the sound of him banging metal into place warded of any visitors. But said blonde shuffled in, more unnerved by the fact that he was approaching his sudden crush than walking into what was basically a construction site. Despite _thoroughly_ enjoying the view, Tony raised an eyebrow, not putting down the blowtorch.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

Steve jumped a little. Goddamnit, he was awful at this. This is usually where he asks Bucky for advice, but he has a feeling that he wouldn’t be very inclined to help him out this time. It didn’t help that even in its most blunt, dismissive tone, his voice was still like honey and melted caramel, to match his eyes. They _were_ an odd combination, if you thought about it. They weren’t hazel, it was like they were combining different shades of brown. What he wouldn’t give to sketch them-

 

“Hey. Tall, blonde and spacy. Did you need something?”

 

Right. He was here with a purpose.

 

“Well, um…I was hoping you’d…maybe want to go after school and grab coffee or something?”

 

Steve internally praised himself for the planning when Tony’s eyes went from bored and narrowed to wide-eyed and reverent. He had seen the boy around a few times in passing, and he always had an over-sized Thermos filled with the caffeinated beverage. He cringed at how unhealthy it was, but if it got his foot in the door…

“No.”

 

Steve’s face fell.

 

“Oh. Alright. Can…can I ask why?”

“I don’t know who put you up to this, but tell your fellow asshole buddies to leave me out of their fucking bets.”

 

Steve understood Bucky’s hatred of Michaels a little better, now.

 

“It’s not a bet.”

“Of course. Because Captain America is seriously asking the unpopular nerd out for coffee. That’s damn cruel, you dick.”

 

Steve blushed at the nickname, and blushed harder when he realized he was blushing. Curse his Irish skin. Tony was about to lower his mask, when Steve called out.

 

“Wait! Look, I know you’ve had…issues with us in the past, but we’re not all like that! I promise! Just one try is all I ask.”

 

Tony felt his stone resolve crumble at the overly-earnest look on his face. That was a damn hard face to impersonate, _and_ to say no to. He switched the blowtorch off.

 

“Fine. I’ll go out to coffee with you. And if this turns out to be some awful joke, I will not hesitate to retaliate by welding your ass-cheeks together while you sleep.”

\------

“Doesn’t the Captain/quarterback of the football team have to attend the practices? Aren’t you like, important or something?”

 

He had waved the comment off, but did leave out how he had stuttered his excuse to Coach. Coach had laughed inappropriately, smacked him on the back, and told him to use protection. He choked on air, and tried to clear those images from his mind. He also ignored Bucky’s heated glare as he walked by the field next to Tony. But he felt it searing through his soul, the embodiment of his anger, disapproval, and jealousy kicking at it, trying to hurt it. But being around Tony provided a nice, cushy wall of adoration and success, and as sappy as it sounded, he was bouncing on it, completely unfazed. His pride grew even more when Tony gaped at his transportation. He could almost see the sparkles in his eyes, like the characters some kids drew in his AP Art class.

 

“Woah. Nice bike.”

“Yep. She’s all mine. Bought her with money I’d been saving up for almost ten years, and fixed her up good as new.”

“She’s _perfect._ And you fixed her up?”

 

Steve flushed at the compliment on his work.

 

“Y-yeah. It took a while, ‘cause I’m nowhere near as skilled as you, but it was worth it.”

 

Tony just hummed and continued to circle it, inspecting every inch. He was relieved that Tony was even mildly impressed, because being a teenager that could by the newest, flashiest model available, _and_ a technological prodigy who could most likely build an exact replica from scratch took a shot at his self-confidence.

 

But as he pulled out an extra helmet ( _“expecting me to come with you, Cap?”_ More like desperately hoping and driving himself mad), and Tony’s arms wrapped around him, all of his worries were dispelled as the familiar rush of air surrounding him took over. And if he took a few turns a little faster than usual to both show off and earn excited yells from Tony, well, that didn’t hurt anyone, did it?

\-----

It hurt Bucky, that’s for sure.

 

He was glaring at him from across the lunch table, and all of their friends (sans Natasha) were looking between them as if trying to solve a rubix-dodecahedron instead of a cube. Clint finally threw his hands up.

 

“Alright. Who pissed in you guys’ Cheerios? Because Bucky looks ready to fight a son of a bitch, and Steve, you look like you’re passive-aggressively ignoring him, which for you is like punching a bro in the face with your emotions. I still don’t know how the fuck you do that, by the way. But seriously, the flying fuck happened?”

“Stark happened.”

 

Clint’s brows furrowed.

 

“Stark? Like, short-stack Stark? Smart-ass Stark? One-day-I’m-going-to-blow-the-roof-of-the-school Stark?”

“Yes. That Stark.”

“What the hell does _he_ have to do with anything?”

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. Clint’s eyebrows furrowed further. Natasha pursed her lips a little. Clint raised both eyebrows. Natasha tilted her head. Clint narrowed his eyes. Natasha shrugged. Clint sighed. Natasha nodded. The unspoken conversation that they had (they were kind of freaky, but hey, they were close enough to do so) went something like this.

 

_“I think you know already.”_

_“I…really don’t think so.”_

_“Yes, you do. You’re just blocking it out.”_

_“Are you serious?”_

_“What do you think?”_

_“I think that they’re both fucking crazy.”_

_“Pretty accurate.”_

_“You’ve **got** to be fucking with me. Them…and **Stark?”**_

_“Yep. Both of them.”_

Clint spoke out loud.

 

“So you’re both fighting over Anthony Edward Stark of all people?”

“Correction. _I’m_ after Anthony Edward Stark, Steve’s breaking the Bro Code-“

“We are _both_ breaking the Bro Code by going after him in the first place. The ‘Bro Code’ has officially gone out the window, Barnes.”

“Along with your loyalty.”

“How can you say that-“

“Because you went on a _date_ with him, Rogers. A one-on-one _coffee date._ You probably spent hours talking, and now you have an unfair advantage by knowing shit about him. Like his favorite color-“

“Red and gold.”

“Food-“

“Sweets.”

“Music-“

“ACDC.”

“ _Shut the fuck up.”_

“What? I’m sharing the information to even out the field-“

“I don’t even know if any of that’s true, and you’re rubbing it in my face is what you’re fucking doing you little-“

“ ** _Enough.”_**

****

Their jaws snapped shut, and they leaned back into their original position from where they had leaned closer while arguing. Natasha glared.

 

“If you’re going to argue over someone like middle-schoolers, do it where I can’t hear you. It’s _irritating.”_

Both of them shot one more glare at the other, before resuming their silent hostility. After a few minutes, Steve rose.

 

“Running away, punk?”

“No, I promised Tony I’d help him with his art project. He’s having trouble. And he offered to help me with Physics.”

“You _motherfucker,_ you have a fucking B in Physics, come the fuck back here you little troll-“

\------


	3. Bucky Retaliates

\-----

Bucky muttered to himself as he strode down the Science hallway. The usual shrieks and clangs from the Engineering classroom didn’t deter him at all, unlike his far warier classmates. He followed them to the door, stopping to raise an eyebrow at the random flashed of light that flickered every few seconds. He was surprised Tony hadn’t set fire to the school yet. Well, there _was_ that time in a Chemistry lab, but that hadn’t reached the main hallways of the building, and Stark Industries had made a ‘ _donation’,_ that replaced the old one with a much shiner and much more well-stocked new one.

 

Still. What had he been doing in there anyway?

 

He cracked open the door, and wouldn’t you have it, there was Tony Stark in all his manic, eccentric, genius glory. He swung the heavy mallet (did he bring this shit from home? And if so, how did he get to use it unsupervised on campus? He was pretty sure blowtorches, mallets, and power drills weren’t allowed), sending sparks flying everywhere whenever it made contact. His upper half was clad in a black, ratty tank-top (though he had a sweatshirt around his waist), and his lower half in baggy jeans. But that wasn’t what caught his eye most, though.

 

All up and down Tony’s arms were scars.

 

Some were short, some were long, some obviously came from burns that hadn’t been treated all the way, and some were jagged. They newer ones were still red, and obviously had to sting with the forceful motions he was making. And if he took off the gloves, he bet his hands weren’t much better. But he merely bobbed along to music coming from his headphones, goggles hiding his eyes, only adding to the mad scientist look.

 

It worked for him.

 

Somehow.

 

Jeez.

 

He made his presence clear by banging on a nearby piece of metal with his prosthetic, the clanging sound loud enough to make Tony pause mid-swing. He lowered the mallet, and pushed up his goggles.

 

“Can I help you?”

“I suppose you can. It would help me greatly if you would hang out with me after school today.”

 

He had to duck as an unexpected roll of duct-tape flew inches by where his head had been. Damn, kid had an arm. Must be all the metal work.

 

“Fuck off. This is the second time in four fucking days that one of you pulled this damn stunt. I swear, if Michaels walks through that door _once,_ I am setting the entire team on fire, consequences be damned.”

 

Bucky raised his eyebrows.

 

“That’s a little violent, don’t you think? Pretty extreme when all a fella wants to do is ask you out on a date.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes, and Bucky’s smirk grew. Feisty. He dug that.

 

“I am dead serious. Get the fuck out of my happy place before I swing this mallet at you-“

“You gave my pal Stevie a chance. Why not me?”

“ _Stevie_ has a wounded-puppy look that would weigh on my conscience for the rest of my life. _You_ have a look that screams ‘I am up to no good’.”

 

Bucky shrugged.

 

“Well, maybe I’m not. I’m not ashamed to admit, I might not have the purest intentions, dollface.”

 

Tony reeled back a little. Was this…flirting? The fuck, people didn’t _flirt_ with him. This stupid, ruggedly-handsome asshole. Bucky gave in to his concern.

 

“By the way…is it safe to be causing sparks like that without protection?”

 

Tony swore like a sailor, immediately mentally smacked himself in the face, and scrambled for his hoodie. Stupid scars, all mangled and grotesque. He probably looked like some sort of wild animal to him. Bucky put a hand on his (also scarred) shoulder.

 

“Hey, I’m not judging. I just don’t want you causing yourself excess pain. Besides-“

 

Bucky shrugged off his varsity jacket, and reached for the bottom of his long-sleeved shirt. He hesitated, thinking of all the people who looked at him uncomfortably, like he was contagious or something. He was missing an arm, not coughing up blood. But he still wasn’t sure what he would think about this-

 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled the shirt off, revealing the prosthetic. It was fairly cutting edge, but it still felt pretty if he paid attention to it. Tony didn’t cringe or look at him with pity. No, he did almost the opposite. He grabbed the arm, pulled off the glove he always wore to hide the hand, and began looking at it backwards and forwards. He made little humming noises, and little grunts when he found something he didn’t approve of. He looked up at him in a silent question.

 

“I was hiking with some buddies near a cliff when it crumbled underneath me. I fell for what felt like forever, and when I landed, some large chunks of rock landed on my arm. I went into shock pretty quick, and passed out. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion, a broken leg, and missing an arm. It had been crushed completely in several places, and they couldn’t even begin to treat it. So they had to remove it, all the way up to the shoulder.”

 

Tony hummed in sympathy, and griped.

 

“Wow. You went through all of this shit, and you _still_ couldn’t get a better arm than this?”

“It was the best Hammer Tech had to offer-“

“ _Hammer Tech?”_

“Well, they were cheaper-“

“Fuck this. Fuck that. I am going to get you a new arm, mark my words. Stupid fucking Hammer Tech, scamming _amputees_ of all people…”

 

He sighed, absently running his hands up his own arms, and then rubbing at the large burn scar on his chest.

 

“Look. I’ll go on that ‘date’ with you, on one condition.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“You _have_ to let me at least _try_ to fix that piece of shit Hammer Tech gave you.”

“Deal.”

\------

Steve glowered at him.

 

Bucky smiled angelically back at him. Fucker didn’t like it when the roles were reversed, did he?

 

Bucky had taken Tony to hang with him at the auto shop where he worked. He said that he could tinker with whatever, as long as he didn’t blow the building to smithereens. In the course of three hours, he had fixed three cars, given advice on five more, and given them his back-up toolkit (which had more impressive tools than he had seen in most other garages _main_ tool kit). He had kept up his end of the bargain, resulting in him removing his arm, and watching amused as Tony welded, hammered, and cussed at his arm. And when it was all finished, he had reattached it with pride, having spray-painted over the Hammer Tech logo with a shiny silver coating and a red star outlined in gold.

 

So when he had shown up the next day and sat down at the table without his jacket or glove on, his table-mates, sans Steve had expressed how impressed they were. Even Steve had to admit it was a large improvement from the old, bulky version that Bucky had been ashamed of.

 

“It…looks good, Buck.”

“I know. But thanks, Stevie.”

 

Steve flashed a small smile. Just because they were romantic rivals didn’t mean they weren’t best friends.

 

“I’m glad he could do something with it.”

“Hm. Not the only thing I want him to do something with.”

“Aaaand you ruined it.”

“You know you’re thinking bad thoughts too. Don’t lie to me.”

 

Steve’s expression shifted into a displeased and embarrassed frown at being caught, his flaming face giving him away immediately. Bucky couldn’t help but crack up laughing at Steve’s stuttered shouts of denial, and grunted but continued as Steve grabbed him in a headlock and wrestled him off the bench in an effort to make him _shut up_.

 

“I-I was not! I haven’t! T-That’s not-why would you-knock it off, it’s not funny!”

“It is pretty funny, bro! Don’t worry. It’s perfectly normal to have naughty thoughts at your age. As long as you don’t act out on them once I win over Tony-“

“Shut _up,_ jerk! I swear to God-”

“Aw, is Stevie embarrassed-ugh! That’s not going to make me stop you-oof-little troll!”

 

The others watched in amusement as the two wrestled around on the ground like toddlers.

 

“I don’t know whether to laugh or get up as if I don’t see or know them.”

 

Clint stood.

 

“Let’s do both, Sam. Let’s do both.”                                                            


	4. Enemy Spies (?)

"Pep. _Pepper._ Now is _not_ the time to pull your stick out of the mud. I am having a _crisis."_

 

Pepper just continued to be a horrible friend and carried on with her hysterical laughter. She had attempted to be sympathetic, but she had let out a snort against her will. And once Tony paused to give her a look of utter betrayal, the floodgates opened and an couldn't help herself. Even Rhodey had given up the battle. Sure, he had bitten down on his fist, but his shoulders shook with the effort it took to keep his hysterics (somewhat) silent. Pepper gasped for breath, and wiped her eyes.

 

"Only you would somehow attract the attention of two handsome young men, and then blame it on a _conspiracy._ Do you even hear yourself?"

"But Pepper. That entire team has given me hell since freshman year. Why the hell would they start turning tables _now_? I am telling you, they are trying to bring me down using my natural weakness for hot guys-"

 

Pepper cracked up again, and Rhodey stepped in.

 

"Look, Tones. Those two haven't even been on the team for all four years. The big, blonde one, Steve Rogers, was all of ninety-five pounds, and made of an anti-bullying campaign and a burning desire for justice. He got the shit beat out of him daily for it. The brunette, James Barnes, lost his arm in an accident, and had to go through a lot of physical therapy because of it. So neither of them joined until last year."

 

Tony raised an eyebrow in suspicion. He still didn't believe those two didn't have an ulterior motive. They were the pinnacle of human perfection, damn it. And he was...

 

"I am one-hundred and fourty pounds. I am below average height, _not short, Rhodes._ I prefer glasses. I am a smart-mouthed sonuva bitch who has a tendency to ignore basic human decency when on an inventing binger. And..."

 

Tony bit his lip.

 

"Barnes saw my scars."

 

Pepper and Rhodey sobered up immediately. They knew how sensitive Tony was about them. 

 

Tony had had been down in his father's workshop, looking for a replacement power drill part. Unbeknownst to him, Howard had been keeping some rather... _unstable (_ and very, _very_ illegal to own that close to a residential area) materials he had been using for his projects, including the first ideas for repulsor technology, against his R&D team's advice. He and Obie had moved it down there, away from their _'judgmental eyes'_.

 

Really, it had only been a matter of time. 

 

He had bumped against the table where the thick case had been resting, and it had been so reactive that the small jostle had quite literally sent shit blowing sky high. 

 

The container exploded, sending pieces of makeshift shrapnel flying everywhere, digging into his arms, shoulders, legs, and chest. The explosion had also left a nice, large, starburst-shaped burn in the middle of his chest, with a scar that would take an extreme amount of plastic surgery to even _begin_ to cover. The force sent him flying back into the wall, where he passed out from the impact and shock. He woke up to an irate Howard, who was mad at _him_ for ' _wrecking his expirement, and costing him millions'._

 

Bastard didn't even ask if he was alright. 

 

But it he had decided that no, he wouldn't cover any of his scars up. Howard had totally disregarded everyone's safety for the sake of a profit. He would wear them as a reminder to keep people safe with his inventions, never harm them, even if it meant losing money in the process.

 

So he wore them. And only his family, Pepper, and Rhodey knew they were there. And apparently, Barnes did as well. 

 

He he had a bad feeling about this.

\------

"Scars?"

"Yeah. All up and down his arms. Looked painful too."

 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. Bucky had told him about the apparent injuries, and they both wondered if he was safe. For something to injure him that badly...and for him to brush them off as nothing...was his home life alright? Was he being abused? That sounded like abuse to Steve.

 

"Oi. Don't go mother-hen on him yet. I just wanted to let you know that maybe he's got some stuff going on, and that's why he's so hostile. Maybe we should soften our plans a bit."

 

Steve nodded minutely. Trust issues were a land-mine that had to be treated through carefully. If they were going to get anywhere, they needed to learn more about them first, or they were going to end up with their leg blown off. 

 

"But he doesn't need to be ashamed of them. He must be strong to have gone through stuff like that and still be able to work and create like that."

 

Little did they know, they had _company_. Justin Hammer grinned. So the little _genius_  had a hidden insecurity, eh? It would be _awful_ of him to take advantage. He grinned maliciously and vindictively. 

 

Good thing he wasn't a nice person, then.

\----

Tony slammed his locker shut, and shouldered his bag. He was behind on his project. He had hoped to have the wiring done by next week. It looked like he wouldn't be done until the week after. Fucking hot distractions. He spun on his heel to head to art (Pepper would chop off his hands if he missed class again) and ran straight into his mortal enemy.

 

No. Not Richards. The other one. Not Micheals either. The other one. No, not the weird Norse kid, the _other one._

 

_How many any arch enemies did he have?_

 

Well, Richards was more of a rival. Micheals was just an asshole. The weird Norse kid was just a  malicious trickster who wanted to watch the world burn. Hm. But he was getting off topic. On a scale from one to ten, he was around a three on a threat level, and a fucking fifty on the 'I want to choke you to death with your own intestines' scale. He was like an annoying fly who he just couldn't seem to swat.

 

"What do you want, Hammer?"

 

Justin Hammer. Son of Stark Industries' 'competitor'. He was always trying to weasel his way into the limelight, and was pissed off when Tony 'hogged' it. He wore his wealth like a cape, showing it off at every opportunity. He was gilded, and gaudy, and straight up insufferable. And unlike Tony, he _had_ bought himself a clique, and they were shadowing him as he spoke. 

 

"Tony, Tony, Tony.  You _wound_ me. Can't I just stop to speak to a fellow golden child?"

"Cut the shit, Hammer. _You_ may want to be a golden child, but _I_ do not. So whatever asshole-ry you have planned, just go away."

 

Justin smirked.

 

"Well, I'm glad you don't want to be one. It's not like you could, what with those ugly marks all over you."

 

Tony felt the world fall from beneath his feet. How, what-

 

"I don't even think plastic surgery could fix those. But you're always so high and mighty. Why don't you take off your sweatshirt and model them for us, hm, you little sonuva bitch?"

 

Tony stepped back. He had a retort on his tongue, but he couldn't seem to choke it out. He saw red. He registered the vicious, stabbing insult he _did_ let fly, and he saw Hammer look offended and irritated. But he wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, so he kept going, lashing out with all of the things that he was tired of. By the time he was done, Hammer had bolted, as well as his embarrassed clique. Pepper and Rhodey were watching wide eyed, not used to such outright hostility. 

 

Tony flitted, and brushed off comments. But the dig at his scars was a low-blow, and so he decided that he would deliver in kind times one-hundred. The accident left him disfigured and bitter, and Justin had just stepped on the mother of all land-mines. He was on their shit-list, but they'd deal with him after they talked Tony down from his homicidal rage. Because Hammer wasn't the only target.

 

Tony was going to murder _both_ of those motherfuckers. Murder them _hard._

\------

I hate Justin Hammer. That is all. 

 

 

 


	5. Conflict Resolution

Tony looked from the left to the right, scanning for his targets. He spotted them walking towards the gym, laughing about something. No doubt about to tell their fucking buddies about the ‘epic prank’ they had pulled on the ‘loser junior’.

 

Well, he’d see about that.

 

(Steve and Bucky were actually laughing at how Clint had gotten detention for shooting a nerf gun at a few assholes who had been catcalling Natasha, and Natasha had gotten detention for stabbing one of them in the hand with a mechanical pencil.)

 

But neither of the two young men were prepared for a five-foot and some change ball of terror to come crashing into them on their way to practice, but it did, and they were _not_ ready.

 

Tony had been counting on that.

 

They might have had the height and weight advantage, but he had speed and the element of surprise. That was probably the only reason he managed to knock Bucky off of his feet like he did. Bucky went down like a sack of bricks, and Tony wasted no time pulling a fist back and giving him one square in the nose.

 

Steve promptly panicked at the sight of Tony’s fist connecting with his best friend’s face, because he managed to get his arms around Tony’s torso and lift him upwards off of his chest. Tony kicked his legs, and Steve swore while trying to keep from being kicked in the shin.

 

“Let me go! Let me go right now you fucker!”

“Tony! Tony, stop-“

“Let me _go-“_

“Tony, come on-“

“No! I hate you! I _hate you!_ Do you get it now, assholes? I am so fucking _done_ with both of you! You both will never in a million years fucking comprehend just how much I fucking _despise you-“_

Steve flinched at the hostility lacing every word. He tried reasoning with him, making his tone as calm and non-confrontational as he could.

 

“Look, can you please just explain what exactly we did?”

“You _know already-“_

“We really don’t, Tony.”

 

Tony stopped kicking, and Steve took this as a sign that he had calmed down. He was wrong, because the minute he was back on his feet, _he_ had a foot square in the torso. His breath left him in a _‘whoosh’_ of air, and he doubled over. Tony spoke in the most menacing tone he could.

 

“Since you want to act like an ignorant dumbass, fine, I’ll tell you. Not even an hour ago, a prick named Justin fucking Hammer proceeded to openly mock my scars, which I normally do a _very good job at hiding,_ in front of my _fellow peers._ Now I just wonder, how on _earth_ did he get that information?”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes.

 

“ _I know,_ maybe he got it from the two assholes who won’t leave me alone, one of whom saw my scars personally. So how much did he pay you for the intel?”

 

Steve and Bucky looked hunted. Bucky had climbed to his feet, and was holding a hand over his bleeding nose.

 

“Look, I may have told Stevie over here about them. But only to convince him to back off a bit! Why the hell would we tell that prick anything? He made fun of Stevie and I just as bad!”

“Oh, really.”

“Um, yeah. Stevie here was one-hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, and I’m missing an arm. What makes you think he was nice to us?”

 

Tony scrunched his eyebrows.

 

“Point.”

 

Steve spoke up, glad that he didn’t sound as out of breath as he felt.

 

“Look, Tony. We might not have been as careful as we should have been with the information, and we’re sorry. We shouldn’t have spoken about it in the open like that.”

“Damn straight-“

“But we really mean no harm at all, dollface. Please don’t set us both back from before we even began because of some rich-bitch douchebag.”

 

Tony huffed, and crossed his arms.

 

“Come over here.”

 

They looked confused, and a little wary.

 

“W-what?”

“You want my forgiveness? Get over here.”

 

They looked at each other, challenge clear in their eyes.

 

_I’m going to do whatever it is. Are you?_

Neither backing down, they did as instructed. Tony looked them both square in the eye, and it unnerved them. It was like he was staring straight down into their very core. Before they knew it, a hand had whipped across both of their cheeks, leaving stinging, red marks.

 

“OW, that smarts!”

“SHIT, damn, Stark!”

“That’s for being oblivious idiots.”

 

He grabbed them both by the front of their jackets.

 

“I still don’t trust either of you worth a damn. But I suppose I’ll hold off on welding your faces onto each other’s asses. But if I get even the smidgen of a _hunch_ that you’ve got some sort of sick, ulterior motive, I will give you scars of your own. And I’m already half-way there.”

 

With that, he pushed them both away, picked up his bag, and stalked away. The two young men stayed behind, rubbing their cheeks, possibly a little bit more in love than they started.

 

And a little turned on, to be honest.

\------


	6. Tag-Team Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION! Since this story has gotten _much_ more attention than I thought it would, I've decided to test my luck and have a...challenge, of sorts. So all of you who are artistically inclined (something I am very much not), I'm looking for an illustration to put up on the first chapter! Send me your submissions at my tumblr (link below) or link it in your comments! Winner gets their artwork posted on the first chapter, a dedication with my eternal accolades, and a chapter containing anything of their choosing (as long as it's not something extremely inappropriate; no rape or awful things like that, please)!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/a-brits-daily-journal

\------

Tony looked from the left, and to the right, before ducking into the Engineering classroom. He hoped to get at least an hour of work done before one of the Brooklyn Boys came hunting after him. He’d never admit this under pain of death, but he kind of…sort of… _understood_ the plight of the heroines in those stupid romance novels Pepper secretly loved so much. He had two hot-as-the-sun guys after him, hell-bent on ‘ _winning him over’,_ and he couldn’t seem to make a choice one way over the other. They had wormed their way into his good books after they confronted (read: scared them shitless; it had been fucking phenomenal, and Steve’s friend Clint had gotten the whole thing on video) Hammer and his army of gold-diggers, but the amount of flirting and… _wooing_ had sent him flat on his ass. His life had gone from 0 to 60 in one second, and he hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt.

 

Steve Rogers was like sunshine personified. All blonde hair and baby-blues; he was the sweetest, warmest guy he’d ever met. He brought him _flowers_ for crying out loud. Sure, his courting style ( _courting,_ dammit) was sort of old-fashioned, but he found it hilariously adorable how even a kiss on the cheek had him sputtering. He made him feel all warm and gooey and all kinds of sickeningly sweet adjectives that he thought were disgusting before he started feeling them.

 

Okay, fine, he still thought they were sort of gross.

 

On the other hand, James “Call-me-Bucky” Barnes was all rugged sexiness and delicious danger mixed together to form one utterly outrageous species of man. He made him tingle in all the right places, and his non-stop flirting had him caught up in a tornado, and he couldn’t seem to get his feet underneath himself. He was by no means a blushing maiden, but people didn’t ‘ _flirt with him, dammit, why was there flirting, he didn’t sign up for this’_.

 

And they were both built like fucking Adonis and he wanted to climb them like trees.

 

Between the motorcycle rides, and the coffee dates, and the flowers and the chocolates and the walking to class and the compliments, his life had done a _complete_ one-eighty. He didn’t want to turn down either of them, because in their own way, they had both endeared themselves to him. But he had to _pick one._ So he settled for ducking around and avoiding them until he could figure this shit out. He sighed and dug his palms into his eyes.

 

What the fuck was he going to do?

\-----

Clint snorted as he replayed, yet again, the video of the two brick-shit-houses he called friends making Hammer quake in his ugly-ass, over-priced boots.

 

On top of getting an apology out of him, they had also gotten him to say a bunch of other embarrassing shit, like admitting that he was a complete douchebag for treating Tony and others the way he did. And even though Steve usually wasn’t one for humiliating someone like that, Bucky had given _zero fucks_ about ruining his already smeared reputation. And the asshole had almost put a permanent wedge between those two and their prize of one snarky genius, so Steve had gotten over his inner turmoil, if there was any to start with.

 

He was _so_ happy he had gotten that shit on film. It already had over twenty-thousand views on YouTube, a shit-ton of likes and comments on Facebook, and was trending on Twitter.

 

#RichBitch had been Bucky’s idea.

 

But now that their temporary truce was over, they were back to being at each other’s throats; fighting over who knows what anymore. They fought over dates, they fought over who stole whose ideas for a date, hell, they even fought over who forgot to include something on the other’s date. And they both were being utterly ridiculous. Natasha had merely raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s bandaged nose, and Steve had sheepishly shown them the bruise on his abdomen, causing him, Sam, and their teammate Thor (they had befriended the Nordic exchange student when he joined the football team) to crack up laughing.

 

“You both got beaten on by a five-foot-three ball of manic engineer, and you’re arguing over who takes him to see the new movie he wants to watch on Saturday? Are you fucking with me?”

“Shut it, Barton. This is between Stevie and I, and you wouldn’t understand, anyway.”

“You two are never going to fucking resolve this. Why don’t you just share him? You share everything else.”

 

They all started laughing again, but Clint abruptly stopped at the contemplative faces the pair were wearing.

 

“Guys? I was joking. Holy shit, it was just a joke, are you actually taking me seriously?”

 

Bucky shrugged, and Clint looked to Steve.

 

“Steve? You are the Mom Friend. You should have more common sense than this.”

“Well…”

 

Everyone stopped and stared. Bucky and Steve both looked at each other, asking silent questions with their eyes. Bucky shrugged again.

 

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“We hang out together every day, anyway.”

“And we’d both get what we want…”

 

Clint slammed his head down on the table, Sam face-palmed, Natasha raised her eyebrow higher, and Thor just blinked.

 

“Friends…are they speaking of sharing the young Stark’s affections?”

“Yes, Thor.”

 

Thor flashed an enormous smile.

 

“Aye, this is the perfect solution to our brethren’s struggle for his hand!”

“If Stark will go for it.”

“Worry not, Natasha! There is no possible reason why he would turn down two such fine young men!”

 

Clint just groaned against the table. Why had he opened his mouth, again?

\-----

 Tony shivered. Why did he feel an ominous aura all of a sudden? He blamed it on a lack of sleep and the dwindling amount of caffeine in his system. He shrugged, and went back to work.

 

 

 


	7. Tag-Team Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since this chapter and the last one are short, I'm just combining them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

\-----

Steve and Bucky were making their determined trek towards the Science Hall when they heard the conversation that raised their figurative hackles. 

 

Anfew feet away, and ignorant of their presence, a group of their _teammates_ , as well as a few other 'popular kids', were crowded around something, laughing and sneering maliciously. They couldn't quite see through the horde, but they had a good guess of what.

 

"You think you're such hot shit, don't you. You always strut around like you can't be bothered to interact with us _peasants-"_

"Seeing as how aforementioned peasants try to beat the shit out of me and torment me on a damn near daily basis, excuse me for not being so quick to kiss your ass-"

 

Tony's voice was cut off as he took a particularly hard hit to the gut. He held back a groan, and spoke through the pain.

 

"...See what I mean?"

 

Micheals' face burned red with anger. Oops. Well, Howard always did tell him he didn't know when to keep his damn mouth shut. He couldn't hold back a wince when the two thugs holding his arms tightened their hold. 

 

"You fucker. You've crossed the line. It was already disgusting when it was just you. And now you've gone and spread your...your... _homosexuality-"_

 

He spat it like it was a filthy word.

 

"Onto two of our top players. We'll see how much damage you can do after _we're_ done with you. I'm going to beat the faggot right out of you, and then we'll see how much they like you black, blue, and broken."

 

He pulled back his fist, gathering enough momentum to break his nose. But his fist never moved forward, because his arm was roughly grasped by a metal one.

 

"And just what the ever-loving _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"

\-----

Michaels' face contorted with pain as Bucky twisted his arm when he didn't receive an immediate answer.

 

"Well? I'm fucking waiting. Because to us, it looks like you're trying to fight someone damn near a foot shorter than you by ganging up on him. And it just so happens that we carry a torch for this guy right here, so you'd better pray that that wasn't what you were doing."

 

Michael let out a yelp as the grip tightened still. 

 

"Because I'm going to break a bone for every mark you've ever made on him if it was."

 

Michaels' goons threw Tony to the side to help him, which Steve caught sight of. In a fit of uncharacteristic aggression, he punched one square out on his rush to help him up. The rest of them turned their attention to the three of them. Steve squared his shoulders. They were still outnumbered, and Bucky didn't seem likely to take his attention off Michaels anytime soon. 

 

"Well, well, well. I'm hurt guys. Are you starting the party without us?"

 

Steve grinned as Clint and Natasha strode up, closely followed by Sam and Thor. Everyone paled, especially the goons.

 

"Indeed. It appears as though they meant to start before we could join in on the merriment!"

"Just say fun, Thor."

 

Sam sighed.

 

"If you two are going to get yourselves sent to Principal Fury's office, then we've got no choice than to accompany you."

 

Natasha said nothing, which was somehow scarier than any threat.

\----

Principal Fury narrowed his eye at them. 

 

"Do any of you want give me a damn explanation?"

 

Clint grinned, and his bleeding lip gave it a somewhat maniacal edge.

 

"We got into a fight. We won, by the way." 

 

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuckers were giving him a migraine.

 

"You know the drill. Get your asses to the nurse, and then my office, one at a time."

\------

Tony made note of his injuries (black eye, and a definite bruised rib, but it was nothing a little concealer and some Tylenol couldn't fix).

 

Clint had a split-lip from where some douche got in a lucky hit. Turns out it wasn't a lucky hit, and that he had taken it to leave an opening for an uppercut. Sam had scratches along his arm, but they were shallow, and a bruise was blossoming on his jaw. Natasha and Thor were mostly unruffled, the only sign they had even participated was Thor's messy hair and Natasha's blood-stained knuckles (he was sure none of it was her's). Bucky and Steve had no obvious injuries, but Bucky's prosthetic was grinding a little, and a little prodding revealed that Steve had bruised his knee and would have bruises on his knuckles for sure.

 

Somehow the beat-down had turned into a brawl, and Nurse Cho didn't even ask any questions. After they were relatively checked-out and patched up, they were all sitting on the uncomfortable benches outside Principal Fury's office. Clint broke out laughing as he took photos for Instagram, and tweeted.

 

"Wow. It's only been an hour and we're already trending. Well, Stark is trending."

 

He shot an amused grin at Tony's confused face.

 

"#SmolVengence."

"The _fuck?_ I am not **_small_** -"

"You're like five-foot three-"

"I'm five-foot _six,_ you asshole, and I'm compact-"

"Pretty word for small~"

 

Tony glared harder, and turned to the two Brooklyn Boys.

 

"You started this."

"They're trending too. First #RitchBitch, and now #Tony'sAvengers. Here that guys? We're _Avengers."_

 

Steve sighed.

 

"That name's gonna stick, isn't it?"

"You bet your ass it is. There's even a video. Damn Stark, you're brutal for someone your size-"

"Stop with the height jokes, Barton-"

"Seriously though, you _have_ to teach me that tackle-assault-"

 

Tony turned back towards the two.

 

"I suppose thanks are in order. Does this mean that you two are done with the whole 'compete for my hand' contest or whatever?"

"Yep. We decided to share you."

 

Tony wilted a little at the beginning, but shot up (fucking _ow,_ his rib) at the end.

 

"Wait, _what?_ "

"Yup. No more conflict, higher success rate. We're tag-teaming you now, dollface."

"Are you on _drugs-"_

"Only if your love is one."

"That was awful, Barnes."

"Don't worry. My mouth is good for other things, too."

 

Tony shuddered a little at the downright filthy grin Barnes shot him, and even Steve's eyes glinted with mischief. He didn't know if was a good shudder or a bad one. 

 

Probably a little of both.

 

They continued their loud conversation about who kicked the most ass and whether or not to turn the Avengers into a thing.

 

At least until Sarah Rogers showed up, and her look of disapproval shut them all right up. 


	8. New Alliances

\-----

Sarah Rogers looked over all of them, one at a time. Even Natasha looked a little less threatening under her gaze. Once she reached Tony, she raised an eyebrow.

 

"You wouldn't happen to be Anthony Stark, would you?"

"Um...yes?"

"So you're the boy my Steven has been going on about for the last few weeks."

 

Steve blushed to his hairline.

 

"M-ma!"

 

He snapped his mouth shut at her scathing glance.

 

"You've been the cause of many a stress-eating binge, you know that?"

 

Bucky snickered at Steve's look of mortification, but sobered immediately when the look was turned on him.

 

"Don't you dare laugh, James Buchanan Barnes. You've been just as bad as Steven. Speaking of which, Steven Grant Rogers, what have I told you both about fighting?"

 

When the answer didn't come forth fast enough, Tony watched in hilarity and horror as her hands whipped forward and grabbed them both by the ear. The both let out twin chants of "ow"s, and Steve spoke up.

 

"You told us not to, but Ma-"

 

The "ow"s were louder when she tugged again.

 

"No buts. You should have restrained them, and sent someone to get an adult. Now you two are most likely going to be suspended, and James, just you wait until your counselor hears about this."

 

Bucky winced. That meant an entire session of 'aggression training'. Damn it.

 

She turned back to the others.

 

"The same goes for all of you."

 

Tony jumped up ( **ow,** his fucking rib).

 

"Don't get them in trouble, Ms.Rogers! They stepped in to keep me from getting the sh- _stuffing_ beat out of me. It wasn't their fault."

 

Ms. Rogers smiled. 

 

"I wish we could have met on better terms than this, Anthony-"

"Call me Tony, please."

"Alright. But this group has gotten into many a fight over the years. They know they don't have to tolerate bullying, but they can't always solve problems with violence, or they could become bullies themselves."

 

She released the two young men, and not long afterwards, Fury called through the door.

 

"Alright, you damn delinquents. Barton's first."

\-----

After they were all thoroughly 'chastised' (chewed out), they met outside his office, and Tony spoke to them all.

 

"Hey, thanks for fighting those dicks with me back there. Whenever you're all free, do you maybe, wanna, come over for a movie or something? I have space."

"Will there be snacks?"

"Yes, Katniss, there will be snacks."

 

Clint shrugged.

 

"I'm in."

 

The rest all agreed, and they set the date for next Saturday night. Tony couldn't help but smile as he left for the chemistry lab to invite Bruce.

\-----

"What am I doing, Pepper? This is ridiculous. I've never even had a play date, let alone a Movie Night."

"It's really simple, Tony. Play movie, eat snacks. It's not rocket science."

 

Tony groaned.

 

"I'm probably better at rocket science than this shit."

"I keep forgetting that you're an eccentric nerd with no social life or skills."

"I am eccentric _genius,_ and I'm too busy for social shit."

"Busy building yourself a girlfriend-"

"Fuck you, Rhodes, who asked you-"

 

Rhodey snickered, and Tony scowled. When he built a functioning A.I, he'd win a shit-ton of awards, which he'd rub in his face. It would be _glorious_. He told him as much, as well as where he could stick his shitty sense of humor.

\-----

He was freaking out. 

 

Jarvis had prepared a feast of snacks, and Tony had ordered a shit-ton of pizzas before giving him the night off. His parents were at some fancy party in Amsterdam to celebrate some old business partner's birthday. The room was prepared, and the TV was set to play whatever movies they chose. 

 

He was still freaking out when the chime went off, signaling that someone was at the gate.

 

He rushed over to the intercom.

 

"Who is it?"

"Um, it's us? Do we push a button or something-"

"Nope."

 

With a push of a button on his end, the gate swung open, and he heard the tell-tale sound of a motorcycle engine, along with a car. Within minutes, there was a knock on the massive front door.

 

He made his way over, and waved them in.

 

"Come on in, before the pizza gets cold and the drinks get warm."

 

He led them to the media room, and Clint gaped.

 

"I'm never leaving. This is now my house. I will live in this room until I die; how big is this TV?"

"Um...I'm not sure? It's custom-"

"And this is the comfiest couch I've ever sat on. I live here now, and there's nothing you can do about it. Barnes! Come sit on this couch."

 

Tony raised an eyebrow. Steve looked pained by his friend's enthusiastic bouncing, and chose to acknowledge Tony instead.

 

"Um...thanks for inviting us. It's really awesome of you."

 

A crash came from behind them that Steve forced himself not to look at.

 

"And I apologize in advance for any damage they do."

"It's fine. And I have to give you good things to say about me to your mom, right?"

 

The blush came back full force, and he groaned at the shouted "I'm okay" from Clint.

\-----

He didn't know how long they had been up, but they'd been marathoning the Indiana Jones series, so. Steve and Thor ate like elephants, with Bucky and Clint not far behind. 

 

But the seating arrangements were what unnerved him the most.

 

Somehow, he had wound up sideways on Steve and Bucky's laps.

 

He had gotten up to use the bathroom, and had come back to every seat taken but the one between the two. On the love-seat.

 

Those mother _fuckers_. 

 

The conversation outside of Fury's office bounced around his head. Just as he was about to plop down on the ground, Bucky had gotten up, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him back over. But since it was such a tight fit, his attempts to get comfortable only maneuvered him into his current position.

 

He was trying to ignore everything when Bucky put his head on his shoulder, and mumbled into his ear. 

 

"We just want you to know that we aren't playing around with you. And it's not just a sex thing, either. We did our research, and what we want is a polyamorous relationship with you. All three of us in an equal couple, the same as if there were only two." 

 

Tony ducked his head. He still had a little bit of a hard time believing them. He could understand people wanting his money, but all of this...wooing, and courting and crap? He had nothing. But something inside, something hopeful, told him to try.

 

"Ugh. Fine. I swear, you two are like a dog with a bone when it comes to this. I'll never be able to escape you, will I?"

 

He yelped as he was almost snuggled to death by two overly-affectionate football players.

\-----

"No!"

"Clint. It's time to go-"

"But Sam, the _TV-"_

 

Sam shot an apologetic look as he continued to drag Clint upstairs. Tony had offered to let them stay over since it was so late, but Clint was putting up one hell of a fight.

 

"It'll be there in the _morning_ , Clint-"But-"

 

Bruce had merely chuckled and said goodnight. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint, and after a few seconds he huffed and made his way upstairs. Bucky had smiled lecherously, and was about to follow Tony, but swore when Steve grabbed him by the shirt and drug him in the opposite direction. 

 

"Oh, come on!"

"No. We're going to do this right."

"I wasn't going to do anything."

"Sure you weren't."

"I'm gonna die of blue-balls if this keeps up."

"Eventually, Buck. But first we're going to show him how much he's worth."

"I hate it when you get all noble and junk."

"You just hate it when I'm right."

"That too."

 

They both sighed.

 

"At least we have our dreams, right Buck?"

"It's not the same."

"I know, Buck. Trust me, I know."

\-----

 


	9. Howard Disapproves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> Finals are a bitch and I have been through the ringer. But I'm done for now, so here's another chapter to celebrate!
> 
> (Update: I read a post recently on Tumblr about people refusing to give artists credit for their hard work. Tony's issue with Howard is that he's not giving him credit, even though he's struggling socially, mentally, and even health-wise.
> 
> GIVE ARTISTS THEIR DAMN CREDIT YOU GUYS I S2G!)

\-----

Ever since the fight and subsequent movie night, Tony found himself in a position he would never have even _dreamed_ of. 

 

Somehow, he had gone from being an eccentric loser to an eccentric _love interest_. 

 

Bucky and Steve were the boyfriends out of a Disney movie; Steve the romantic yet dorky Prince Charming, and Bucky the devilish yet somehow still equally dorky rogue. They waited for him outside his classes, picked up lunch for him, hugged him, and bared their teeth at anyone who even so much as _glanced_ at him with bad intentions. Some bitch had given him a side-eye (there were many who were not pleased with the fact that Tony had stolen the two's attention), and Bucky had stared at her so viciously that he was surprised she didn't spontaneously combust.

 

Alongside those two came the rest of the gang, because they were a package deal. They were loud, and rowdy, and everything that he figured he would hate, but soon realized that he loved. They accepted him with relatively open arms (Natasha was suspicious of everything and everyone), and soon he found himself bonding over asshole-ry with Clint, and pulling in his own Science Bro into the fold to collaborate with Thor's girlfriend Jane, whom he'd sworn in as an official Science Sis. Pepper and Rhodey were reserved at first, but between Rhodey's acknowledgement that his...suitors...were honest guys, and the promises from Pepper that she would step on their dick with her sharpest pair of stilettos if they fucked up, even they viewed the latest developments a good change in his life.

 

Should have known it was too good to be true.

\-----

The walk to Howard's office always made him feel smaller. The hallways echoed every step, and the cold chill was only partially because of the weather outside.

 

Howard kept the temperature down on purpose, he was sure of it.

 

Anyways, Howard only personally requested his presence when he had fucked up. Otherwise he sent Jarvis to tell him or ask him. So when Jarvis had informed him that he wanted a word with him, he had wiped his face of any emotion and tried to make himself seem as uninterested as possible. He knocked on the big wooden door of Howard's office.

 

"Come in."

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"I do. Sit down."

 

He slumped onto the couch while Howard stood and walked over to the window.

 

"It's come to my attention that you've not been working on your projects as diligently as you should have been."

 

Tony sunk deeper, feeling microscopic despite his efforts to seem nonchalant.

 

"I suppose I have been taking time off."

"And just why is that?"

 

Tony glared at the floor.

 

"Well, I've been hanging out with friends."

 

Howard glared at the world outside.

 

"Friends. And please inform me, are these...friends of yours going to further your future? At all? In any way, shape, or form?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Damnit Tony!"

 

Tony went rigid.

 

"You are not some run of the mill high school brat! You are the future of the Stark empire! You don't have the damn privilege to flounce about like a fucking idiot!"

"But-"

"No fucking buts! You have fallen behind on several projects that I assigned to you. They are the simplest damn tasks I could give you! And you're telling me it's because you've been prancing the hell around with some teenage ruffians?"

"Those ruffians are my damn friends! I haven't had a group like this ever in my life! I'm finally not some stupid little freak at school to everybody and now the few friends I have are an issue-"

 

He heard rather than felt the slap. His cheek stung like a motherfucker, but there was no way he'd give him the satisfaction of seeing him react to it. 

 

"Watch the way you speak to me, boy. I've left you to your own devices for to long. I expect you to finish what I've given you to do, and I want this distraction nipped at the bud, am I clear?"

\-----

After several all-nighters, and a lot of ignoring inquiries about the mark on his cheek, he was caught up on his 'assignments'. He had been steadily avoiding his newfound group, hoping that enough brushing off would finally turn them away.

 

What he didn't expect was for the engineering room door to be thrown open after school one day, and for Steve to walk up to him, determined. Before he could open his mouth and say he was busy, Steve had him over his shoulder and was walking towards the football field.

 

"Steve?! Steve! Steven Grant Rogers you put me down this fucking minute-"

"No. I have practice. And you are going to sit on the bleachers until said practice is over, after which we are going to talk about whatever is bothering you like rational people."

"And if I say it's you?"

"Than we'll talk about it."

 

Tony huffed. Damn him for being so earnestly adorable.

\-----

He had planned to make a run for it as soon as Steve left to get changed, but the other members of the posse who didn't play football were waiting there, watching him, and keeping him firmly seated.

 

(Natasha merely raised a non-impressed eyebrow when he tried to get up, but it still made him sit his ass down like it was on fire.) 

 

He watched his sort-of-boyfriends tackle and get tackled and run around in really tight pants for two hours, and felt his chest get tight once it ended. They led him to the area by the locker room (and he couldn't help but feel some vindictive glee as no one confronted them), but it felt like they were leading him to the guillotine.

 

Once his wonder boys had changed, they all turned to look at Tony. Clint spoke first.

 

"What the hell, man? I thought we bonded over our hatred of Hammer and his clique, love of the Internet, and tendency to recede Coulson's hairline."

 

Natasha rolled her eyes. 

 

"Please. Don't act like you don't have a major 'hot-for-teacher' crush on him."

"Natasha, I'd tell you to shut the hell up, but you'd probably cut my dick off and choke me with it, so I won't."

"Good choice. But seriously, Stark. You've been acting like an utter ice-queen, and I'm getting sick of those two's moping."

 

Bucky and Steve both shot her looks of utter betrayal, and he couldn't hold in a snort. He had a weakness for her dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

 

"Look, dollface. If Stevie and I have over-stepped a boundary, all you have to do is say so. We won't judge you or make life difficult for you or anything."

 

Both he and Steve refused to look at him, and his heart broke. He placed a hand on each of their cheeks, and spoke firmly.

 

"Hey. You two have done nothing wrong. You've been fairytale material since you've started this mission of yours. What's happening now is my problem, and mine alone."

 

Steve smiled, all perfect teeth and boyish charm.

 

"That's the thing, Tony. This thing between the three of us, it binds us. Your problem is our problem, and any struggles you face have to go through us first."

"That's right."

 

(Tony did not cry. Clint is a lying asshole.)

\-----

After their impromptu therapy session, which ended with both of his Brooklyn Boys receiving a kiss on the cheek and a roll of the eyes for being so damn sentimental (which Tony deep down cherished and shut the hell up, Clint, you don't have two beefcakes going after you so screw you), Sam clapped his hands together for progress, and decided they should go out for comfort food. 

 

Everyone agreed whole-heartedly, and Tony had laughed maniacally as Steve had hefted him onto his back, and jogged him to the parking lot like he weighed nothing at all. He'd have felt embarrassed if he wasn't feeling giddy as hell.

 

"Onwards, Captain America!"

 

During dinner (shawarma, he found out, was hella delicious), he had laughed more than he had in years. Even Bruce was enjoying himself. Clint was taking selfies with everyone, and taking photos of everyone, because apparently #Avengers was more popular than he thought. Between #BlackWidow to #ScienceSiblings, Clint had posted photos of them in every situation possible (including one pic of them in detention that Steve had made a disappointed face at).

 

"#FeelingsandFood. #AvengersAssemble. This shit is getting me so many followers, you don't even know."

"Shut up and eat your food, Legolas."

 

Sure, the universe didn't usually want him to have nice things. But who was the universe to tell him what he could and couldn't have anyway?

\-----

 


	10. Howard Disapproves Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK! And guess who's cancer is in remission? That's right, mine! I know this is short, but it's only a preview, because the next chapter is HELLA long. 
> 
> Enjoy!

\----

Howard steepled his fingers, watching intently as his son grabbed his lunch parcel from Jarvis. He had spoken with him a few days prior, and _had_ received decent results. But that was merely a bandage over the wound. If the tempo of innovation dropped, Stark Industries reputation would head south. Fast. He hadn't had to worry about this when Anthony was younger. But now he was older and questioning his boundaries. He needed that boy kept under his thumb were he could be useful.

 

Obidiah Stane stood next to him, mouth a tight line.

 

"You know what you have to do, Howard. This ridiculousness can't continue."

"I know, Obidiah. Hand me the phone, I have some calls to make."

\-----

Tony pulled into his parking spot, tires squealing (and probably leaving skid marks, Coulson was going to have his _ass_ ) at the high speed. 

 

He'd never been so excited to go to school. If he had told his past self that he'd be peeling out of the driveway in a mad dash to attend _school,_ of all places, his past self would have sacrificed him to Richards for experimentation. But the reason (or _reasons_ ) for his excitement were waiting for him at the entrance of the school, and they seemed to be just as happy to see him as he was to see them.

 

Life was _good_.

\-----

Spoke too soon.

 

He was currently sitting alone outside Principal Fury's office, wondering what the hell he'd done wrong. He hadn't set fire to anything (that hadn't been meant to set fire to) for at _least_  a week. That was likely a new record for him. Maybe he wasn't actually in trouble, and had done something praise worthy in Fury's eye.

 

As fucking if. Maybe he'd also become Richards' lab assistant while he was at it.

 

So he continued to sit there in a damn uncomfortable chair, and waited for the inevitable bitching. After what felt like hours (but was only like ten minutes), Coulson opened the door and ushered him inside. His usual 'the hell did I do now' died on his tongue when he took in just who exactly was in the office with him.

 

"O-Obie? What are you doing here?"

 

Stane looked up from the folder in his hands to give Tony a sharp smile. 

 

"Hello, Anthony. Good morning to you as well."

 

Tony didn't answer, instead choosing to stare him in the face until his question was answered. Stane sighed.

 

"I'm here to speak with Mr. Fury about your future, Anthony. We've let you do as you please for far too long in my opinion, and your father finally agrees."

 

Tony's eyes widened into shocked orbs.

 

"B-But! I did everything Howard asked me to do! I finished everything he gave me! What more do you want from me?!"

"I'm glad you asked. Your principal has ever so kindly handed over your and your new ' _friends'_ ' disciplinary files. You've been quite the naughty boy, Anthony. Fighting, destruction of Shield High property, and apparently the group you've been running around with is made up of pure, utter, delinquents. Completely unfit for the future of Stark Industries to be rubbing elbows with."

 

Tony shifted incredulous eyes toward Fury, and even Coulson and Hill looked stunned, vastly different from their usual stone-cold poker faces.

 

"You gave him our _disciplinary files_? What the _fuck_ , Fury? Oh, I get it now. How much did my dad pay you? Probably a lot. Or did he offer you a favor?"

"Stark-"

"Nope! I can't believe this. I won't, you hear me? I will not let you three assholes ruin another _second_ of my life. I'm done."

 

Stane laughed, a haughty chuckle that made him want to punch him in the throat.

 

"See, I'm afraid you don't have a choice. We've already completed the process, Anthony. As of today, you are officially disenrolled from Shield High School."

\-----

This was bad.

 

Something was wrong.

 

Steve's mind was whirring, wondering just where Tony was. He had seemed completely healthy when he arrived, and Ms. Cho had said that he hadn't been by her office that day. He usually texted them if he was leaving campus, and all of his tools were gone from the engineering classroom. Bruce hadn't seen him, either.

 

The rest of the group wasn't faring much better. The last incident was still sort of a sore spot for them, and it didn't seem like this time would be any better. Hell, it might have been worse. Natasha spoke up.

 

"So. Does anyone have any idea where short, smart, and snarky went? It's like he just disappeared between second period and now."

 

Clint picked at his plate.

 

"Yeah, man. I mean, it's almost creepy. He's usually impossible _not_ to see, so for him to just vanish into thin air gives off bad vibes."

 

Steve was about to speak up when his phone vibrated. He hurried to check it, and his blood ran cold and hot simultaneously at the simple message sent from Tony's phone.

 

' _Hello. This is Obidiah Stane on behalf of Anthony. As of this morning, he will no longer be attending school alongside you. However, his father and I know that you'll do something rash if we leave you to your own devices. You are invited to speak with us on the matter this Saturday at 10:00 AM. Good day_.'

 

Bucky read over the text message, fingers curling into a fist with suppressed anger.

 

"How much jail time do you think I'd get if I punched him out?"

 

Clint snorted.

 

"You're eighteen and he's hella rich. I'm guessing a lot."

 

He looked like he was seriously contemplating doing it anyway, so Steve decided to be the voice of reason even though he wasn't feeling very reasonable.

 

"Look. This Stane fella obviously wants to speak to us. I'm betting good money that he and his dad are behind last week's _issue_. So let's just go, and try and convince them to let Tony go to school here again. And nobody gets arrested."

"No promises."

 

Steve shot him a look, but deep down, he couldn't guarantee on his end either.

 

He was getting Tony back one way or another.

\------- 

TBC! Cliffhangers, hahaha, aren't I awful? But I promise it won't be for long!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Announcement!

> <https://tmblr.co/ZHAfbr21tstA2>
> 
> Hi, everyone! I just wanted to let you know that I have discovered the cover for this story! Thank the lovely pierial on Tumblr for it (I love it so)! And if any of the wonderful artists feel like illustrating any story in this series, make sure to shoot me a message at a-brits-daily-journal, or leave a comment on said story, and a link when it's done!
> 
>  

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Breaking and Entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm brews, and we near the climax of our story.

\-----

"Howard! Obadiah! You can't fucking do this! Let me out of here you damn psychos!"

 

Tony banged on his bedroom door, which had been locked from the outside. He was absolutely sure one of the staff could hear him (there were at least twenty of them anywhere at any given time), and were just ignoring him on his _captors_ orders.

 

"I swear! I won't build a damn thing for either of you fuckers, do you hear me? You can't make me!"

 

With one last punch to the wood, he yelled in irritation. They were smart enough to clear all of his power tools out of the room, but they were forgetting something. He was a damn _genius._ He refused to let two old-ass farts and a shitty door get the best of him.

 

Now, where did he hide that spare toolkit?

\-----

"Does anyone else feel like, super threatened? Like, _really_  threatened."

"Clint's right. It wasn't this hostile feeling last time."

"Well, last time we weren't standing outside of the gate, preparing to fucking _break in_."

 

Steve tapped his finger against his crossed biceps. Bucky was right. This was illegal. And insane. But he just knew that if they waited for their little _appointment_ , Tony would probably be packed and shipped away by the then. So they were going to do something _really damn stupid_. 

 

"Which is his room?"

"Second floor, third on the east side."

"How do you know that, Nat."

"She's _Nat_. Don't even ask her, Steve."

 

He rolled his eyes, and sighed. His Ma was going to _kill him_ if she found out what they planned to do.

 

"Well. Are we going to just stand here? Follow Nat and I. We'll show you how it's done."

 

With that, Clint cracked his knuckles, and pulled out an arrow. Bucky and Steve had both wondered why he had brought his archery equipment, but Clint had merely raised an eyebrow, and told them not to question his operative skills.

 

Well then.

 

Clint tied a knot to the end of the arrow, drew, and fired. It flew through the air, and embedded itself in one of the holes in the decorations on the top of the gate. He pulled it taught, and with agility they didn't truly know he had, he scrambled up the line. Natasha followed close behind. Bucky watched, and nudged him with his shoulder.

 

"How many times do you think they've done this?"

"Far too many. Let's go."

"You know it."

 

It was far harder than the two previous teens had made it seem, and by the time they were on the other side of the gate, Bucky was convinced they were secretly ninjas. Rebellious, adolescent ninjas. Sounded like a crappy made for TV Disney movie. Nat spoke in a clipped whisper.

 

"During the last movie night, I swept the place, and found out that the manors' security is truly, amazingly, laughably weak. Basic gaurds, basic locks. I'm guessing that all of the good stuff is hidden inside, under far better watch. What I'm trying to say is, Howard Stark places far too much faith in this cushy, wealthy neighborhood, his wall, and his gate."

 

The other three nodded.

 

"One thing that makes infiltrating big houses like this easy is how ornate they are. Plenty of nooks and crannies to grab hold of and scale. Clint. Before we go, I need you to take out the cameras. Whistle when you're finished."

 

A nod, and he dashed across the grass.

 

"And you two. I hope you're confident in your football abilities, because you'll be catching the precious cargo we're after."

 

Nods from both.

 

"This is so insane. Don't mess up, rookies."

\-----

Tony cackled to himself. They thought he was secured, just because he was on the second floor? They underestimated just how brave and/or reckless he became when the need arose. And he could taste his freedom.

 

With one leg straddling the windowsill, he brushed his hair out of his face. It was windy and rainy, but he had to do this _now_. He maneuvered himself until he was standing outside of the window, flush against the wall. He patted his belt to make sure he had everything (Howard had taken his car keys, so he would just have to hot wire one of his babies as vengence. Maybe the Maserati. Oooh, or the custom Tesla. Howard _loved_ the Tesla.

 

Either way, it was only a few feet away from the storm drain, and he'd ran the numbers on it. It would hold. Probably. He was making his way over when a shadow caught his eye. A spark of red.

 

" _Natasha_? What the hell are you doing here?"

"The lover boys requited me in breaking you out, Stark."

"What? Oh my fucking gosh, they're here too? Who the fuck are you people, a military strike squad?"

"Possibly. This is a wonderful chat, Stark, but Clint has currently just finished taking out a majority of the east wing's outer cams, so we have about three minutes before all hell breaks loose, and five before they come to check on you."

"Just let me-"

"No time. Plus, the storm drain is wet, so a controlled slide is damn near impossible, and we don't have time for mistakes."

"How did you-"

"Lover boys are waiting right below. Do you see them?"

"Uh-yeah, I do."

"They are going to catch you in a basket carry."

"Wait, what-"

"You'll jump on three."

"Huh-"

"Three."

 

With that, she jabbed him in the side, forcing him off the window sill. He fell for an instant, with only a small yelp, before finding himself cushioned by two pairs of strong arms. He allowed himself a second of safety to catch his breath before he moved onto his feet, and seconds later Natasha fell as well, only much calmer and crisper than he did.

 

They were all running like mad across the front lawn (Clint had met up with them after ducking away from some security guards), and Tony was laughing hysterically.

 

"Thanks guys, really! But do you have a plan after this?"

 

Bucky smirked.

 

"Plan later, run now!"

"Well, you're lucky I have one, then."

\-----

" _DAMN IT!_ "

Howard swept everything on his desk to the floor. Anthony had escaped. He had escaped, and he had a significant hunch that that rag-tag group of _miscreants_  was to blame. This couldn't leak to the public. He'd be ruined. And with an important meeting on the horizon, he had to have something to show them. But Anthony was gone and he was going to ruin _everything_. Obidiah watched with calm, detached eyes.

 

"Calm yourself, Howard. We have far greater resources and influence. They are just a group of teenagers. We'll squash this little 'issue', have Tony abroad in a boarding school, and have a successful meeting with the client. We have nothing to worry about."

 

' _What could they possibly do?'_

_\-----_

Asthe group drove away, the adrenaline and fear of potential capture left them high off of their victory. Tony had a kiss for both of his 'saviors' (though Clint said it didn't really count because he had halfway escaped on his own; Bucky just shoved him).

 

"Dude. Stark, you'd make an excellent cheerleader."

"If you _ever_ , put those words _anywhere_ on the Internet, I will know, and I will skewer you with your own arrow, Katniss."

"Come on, Stark. Compact, strong, flexible, wicked basket toss form-"

"I _swear_ -"

"Well, you have the legs for the outfit, dollface-"

" _Barnes-_ "

 

The fight ignited, and Steve and Natasha just shook their heads at the immaturity behind them. They knew that the fight was just starting, but they also knew that their group of 'delinquents' should never be underestimated.

 

_They would settle this if it was the last thing they did._

_\----_

 

 

 

 


	13. Don't Mess With the Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, guys! Thank you to all the people who've followed me through this story! This is _not_ the end of the series though! Send me your prompts!

 

 

> "You did _what_?!"
> 
>  
> 
> The entire group winced. Sarah Rogers had come home from her shift at the hospital to find the entire group huddled in the Rogers' living room. And because Steve was Steve and couldn't keep a secret from his Ma, and because Sarah was Sarah, and could smell trouble before she walked through the door, the story had been spilled from Steve's, and  bt extension Bucky and Tony's, mouths. As expected, she had _not_ taken it well.
> 
>  
> 
> "Are you all _out_ of your _minds_? Tony is a _minor_. You could all be _arrested_."
> 
> "But, Ma-"
> 
>  
> 
> Sarah grabbed Steve by the ear before he could explain, and it would never not be hilarious to see a six foot and some change quarterback be brought down to his five foot and a few inches mother's eye level. Tony snorted into the sleeve of the sweatshirt Steve had given him to change into, but schooled his expression into something more somber as he shot him a look of complete betrayal. He cleared his throat.
> 
>  
> 
> "Ms. Rogers, they really were trying to help. I was going to leave anyway. They just wanted to make sure I was safe."
> 
>  
> 
> Sarah sighed.
> 
>  
> 
> "I understand that they meant well, Tony. But I really need to hear some background on this."
> 
> \-----
> 
> Bucky and Steve flanked Tony on either side as he told Ms. Rogers what exactly was going on. When he began choking on tears he refused to shed, they both wrapped arms around him. He snuggled into the embrace, comforted by the warmth and scent of affection he had never received before. 
> 
>  
> 
> Sarah sighed when he finished.
> 
>  
> 
> "You are all right. It is unacceptable for Howard Stark to take blatant advantage of his only son. But as I said earlier, you can't do something like this. He is under Howard's custody, and you are all breaking the law."
> 
> "Please, Ms. Rogers! I have a plan. I just needed to get out from under his and Obidiah's reach for even a minute."
> 
>  
> 
> It was quite obvious that Sarah Rogers was not alright with any of this.
> 
>  
> 
> "You have until Saturday night, Tony. Then I'm calling the authorities and telling them where you are."
> 
>  
> 
> Tony sagged in relief, before squaring his shoulders. 
> 
>  
> 
> "Has anyone cleaned out the Engineering room yet?"
> 
> "No, I don't think so."
> 
> "So the closet is still locked?"
> 
> "What's in the closet, Tony."
> 
>  
> 
> Tony smirked.
> 
>  
> 
> "Freedom."
> 
> \-----
> 
> Howard smiled at the potential investors. Anthony's blueprints were a hit. He may not have the tangible model, but if Anthony was nothing else, he was detailed. His electronics were so futuristic that if the measurements weren't so precise, it would look like a sci-fi prop.
> 
>  
> 
> "Well, Mr. Stark. I must say that I'm quite impressed. We'll make sure to be in touch-"
> 
>  
> 
> Obidiah strolled into the meeting room, mouth tight. Howard raised an eyebrow. Obidiah wasn't one for unexpected interruptions. He leaned down to whisper in his ear. Howard's response was decidedly _not_ a whisper. 
> 
>  
> 
> "What do you mean he's here?!"
> 
>  
> 
> No more than thirty seconds passed after he said it that his son came strolling into the boardroom, followed closely by two large young men. Howard narrowed his eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> "Anthony Edward Stark. What exactly are you doing here? And who are these miscreants?"
> 
>  
> 
> Tony raised an eyebrow.
> 
>  
> 
> "This is Steve Rogers. He's my boyfriend. This is James Barnes. He is also my boyfriend. And as for what I'm doing here, I have a pitch of my own. It's a pet project, for when I wasn't busy drafting and creating 'your' designs."
> 
>  
> 
> Howard barked a humorless laugh.
> 
>  
> 
> "Boyfriends? Only you would do something so crass as an act of defiance. And are you really attempting to accuse me of fraud, boy?"
> 
> "No. I'm going to do you one better. C'mere DUM-E."
> 
>  
> 
> A single arm on wheels rolled into the room. The occupants watched in amazement as it bumped its claw against Tony, tugging at his shirt much like a child would.
> 
>  
> 
> "I see you, DUM-E. You don't need to be desperate for my attention. Now say hi."
> 
>  
> 
> They all watched in shocked awe as the robot, apparently named Dummy, spun in a circle, waved its arm, and beeped out what was clearly a greeting. Tony smirked.
> 
>  
> 
> "DUM-E here is my AI. He learns from observing human social cues. I've been teaching him steadily for about two years. At this point, he probably has the social intelligence of an elementary schooler."
> 
>  
> 
> DUM-E beeped at Steve, who rubbed his head. He decided he liked Steve.
> 
>  
> 
> "And this is just the beginning. From now on, my mind is mine and mine alone. You can claim all of what you've already sank your claws into. Because I'm going to go bigger. I've got plenty more where that came from.
> 
>  
> 
> I've decided to be emancipated. Mom has already agreed to sign off on the paperwork. DUM-E here is in the process of being patented. With all of these people as my witness, I'm breaking off of you. Just watch me. I'll build myself from the ground up, without the weapons and favors and deals."
> 
>  
> 
> Howard reached forward to grab his disobedient son by the arm when the blonde grabbed his. His blue eyes were icy.
> 
>  
> 
> "Don't you touch him."
> 
>  
> 
> The brunette narrowed his eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> "Stevie and I are tired of you messing with our boyfriend. I think it's best that you leave him be. Unless you want the media to find out what a controlling asshole you are?"
> 
>  
> 
> Howard stared them down, weighing the pros and cons of letting him walk free.
> 
>  
> 
> "You won't get another cent from me, you understand?"
> 
> "Of course I do."
> 
>  
> 
> And with that, he turned on his heel and strode out. No matter what happened in the future, of how well or awful he did, he'd have his Brooklyn Boys behind him. 
> 
> And when he cut the ribbon on the newest high-tech facility of Anthony Edward Engineering, the forerunner in clean energy and cutting edge robotics, they were there. When Steve presented at his first formal art show, he was there. And when Bucky graduated from the police academy, well you know the rest.
> 
> Because three really isn't company. It's just enough.
> 
> \-----
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  


End file.
